"What other child?" Griffin asks, whipping his head around. "Is there something you need to tell me, darlin'?"
"No, baby, not yet," she says, kissing his pouting lips. "No mini-Harts to report. I'm talking about ourotherother child, David."
"I'm not," Griffin huffs. "He'd be a whiny baby about Erin getting all the presents. Besides, he needs to get terrorized by his sisters the way he terrorizes us. Keeps him in line."
"I'll have you know," I interject. "Funcle David came by this morning withseveralpresents for his tiny best friend. Give him more credit than that."
"Wait, you said yet?" Jack asks, grinning. "Does that mean you're working on one?"
"Every chance we get," Griffin says in a low voice, grinning wickedly until Ellie smacks him over the head.
"I'm sorry about my husband, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson," she says, covering Griffin's mouth with her hand. "He doesn't get out much."
"It's quite alright," Andrea giggles, Alan's head thrown back in laughter in the seat beside her. "It would be lovely for Erin to have a friend so close in age. And so fun for you and Abby to be moms together."
"You better give her a best friend quick," I say. "Before she she fills that opening with a different blonde baby."
"I'm working on it," Ellie mutters into my ear while Griffin apologizes profusely to Aaron's parents, Jack's laughter filling the room. "I can barely walk these days."
"Gross," I say with disgust, shoving her away from me. "I don't need to hear that."
"My New Year's resolution is to make sureyou'rehaving trouble walking at some point."
"What are you going to do, take a baseball bat to my kneecaps?"
"You know exactly what I mean, Abigail," she says with a pointed look in Jack's direction.
"So your New Year's resolution is to make sure Jack jumps my bones?" I scoff. "You have weird priorities, my love."
"I think I have perfect priorities," she sniffs. "And you know I want to see him do more than jump your bones."
"I know," I say, laying my head on her shoulder. "I think I do, too."
We sit and talk for a while, sipping champagne until the candles burn low and Alan and Andrea excuse themselves.
"Grandparents are up past their bedtime," Alan groans, hands on his knees pushing himself upright. "Merry Christmas, everyone."
"Merry Christmas," Ellie, Griffin, and Jack cheer.
"Merry Christmas," I say quietly, kissing them both on the cheek as they bundle up to head home. "Thank you for coming over."
"Thank you for having us," Andrea says, squeezing me tightly. "Christmas is for family. It wouldn't have felt right without you."
Griffin and Ellie leave shortly after, Griffin muttering something for only Jack to hear on his way out. Jack punches him in the arm, then fiercely pulls him in to a hug.
We wave goodbye from the doorstep, waiting to go back inside until they've closed their own front door behind them.
We haven't talked about what happened the bar since that night, but something palpable has changed between us. It's not uncomfortable, or awkward, or anything negative. It's more like some kind of build up to something inevitable.
I kind of wish it would just happen already. I'm also scared to death of it.
"I'm gonna hop in the shower," he says. "Do you need anything before I do?"
"Go for it," I say, shooing him away, leaning against the living room doorframe and watching him walk away. Even after he disappears into the bathroom, I stare at the empty space where he stood, bringing my fingers absentmindedly to my lips. Suddenly struck by inspiration, I whirl into the living room and begin working furiously, trying to finish the idea before he's done.
I hear the door open just as I'm finishing the final touches, and turn around to greet him, anxiously rocking on my heels with my hands clasped behind my back like a little kid ready to show off their clean room to mom and dad.
"Why do you look like that?" he asks, narrowing his eyes at me. For a moment, I lose all train of thought at the sight of him, his gray t-shirt straining slightly against his biceps, his wet hair wildly tousled, a stark contrast to his consistently put-together appearance. I like this version of him—and secretly hope I'm the only one who gets to see him like this.
